Welcome to Las Vegas
by Cuppaco
Summary: General Set of for a series, if all goes well. This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Please R&R, and enjoy! PG-13 rating for language.


Disclaimer: I do not own, profit, have any monatary interest, or have ownership of CSI or its

characters. They belong to CBS Productions, Jerry Bruckhiemer, and Alliance Atlantis.

Authors Note: This is my very first attempt to write fan fiction. Please read and review. Thank

you and enjoy!

Casey always wanted to visit Vegas, but she never thought she would be living here. It

was a long way from her upbringing in the rural South. Hell they didn't even have a lottery in

Alabama. As she stepped out of her car, the heat reminded her of home; although the sand in

the air was something she was going to have to get used to.

She was twenty three but looked sixteen, average height but overweight, her long brown

hair with red undertones, worn down in an attempt to make herself look authoritative. Right out

of law school, she was hired to be some sort of a liaison from the forensics department to the

district attorney, mayor, and other interested parties. This was a new position, and she had the

distinct impression that she was about to get into the middle of something. She reasoned that the

D.A. and police department were trying to quell an intradepartmental rebellion, and by hiring

someone from the other side of the country would allow for a completely neutral party. It was

completely political and she knew it. "Can you point me in the direction of Gil Grissom's office",

she politely asked the receptionist with a thick southern accent.

As she walked down the glass corridor, she turned into Grissom's office; it was dumb luck

since she tuned out the directions as the repressed a small panic attack. She was sure she

couldn't be the picture of professionalism, on her knees hyperventilating into a paper bag, so she

pulled herself together. She was young, inexperienced, and about to walk into a situation that

she wasn't sure she could handle. Grissom was sitting behind his desk reading files. She began

to talk, but suddenly realized that she didn't have a job title, and really didn't want to refer to

herself as the lawyer here to make sure y'all don't fuck up... again.

He spoke before she could. "You must be the lawyer sent from the district attorney's

office," there was the obvious sound of contempt in his voice. "I am Gil Grissom, the night shift

supervisor. I know why you're here and don't get in the way of our investigations." The tone

gave the impression that her mere presence was a threat to his way of working, possibly his way

of life.

"I am just here to advise, Mr. Grissom, not interfere. With the change in Nevada law, there

has to be a representative from the district attorney's office present in interrogations and

available during investigations for legal purposes. The D.A. felt it best to create a permanent

position."

Grissom mumbled to himself, "Yeah and they send a kid."

"I don't mean any disrespect Mr. Grissom, but I was in the top of my class on academic

scholarship. I interned for some the greatest criminal lawyers in the country. I turned down a

position at a top defense firm to work here. You just better be thankful that I am on your side of

the aisle and not the defendant's." There was an awkward pause as he sized her up. "Plus, I am

here to help push paperwork around."

Gil lighted up with the last comment, "Finally" as he handed her about a foot high stack of

paperwork. "I'll show you to (he smiled with a hitch in his voice) your office." He escorted

Casey down the hall pointing out the different rooms as they passed, break room, locker room,

different labs, and offices. The ended the tour in the back of the DNA lab, to what she was sure

was a converted storage closet with an overstock desk and chair. She was sure the telephone

dated back to before she was born.

"Home sweet home", Grissom quipped jovially as he flipped on the flickering florescent

light. "Be in the break room in ten minutes. And welcome to the night shift" he said turning back,

as he walked out of the lab.

Casey sat there in a state of shock. She gave up 200K a year, nice cushy office, and

everyone she knew and loved to move to Las Vegas for this job; for social justice and do her

part in saving the world. She was sitting in a five by seven windowless box, with enough

paperwork for two months. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into," she said to herself as she

banged her head hard against the desk. A sharp metal clank rang through air.

She had found her locker, dumped most of her junk into it, identified the puddle of dried

coffee spilt in her "office", and managed to hook up her telephone. Seven minutes later and three

minutes early Casey was standing just beyond the break room. She was preparing herself to

walk in on a small group of people who already hated her. She pushed her very professional, yet

trendy glasses up on her nose, took a deep breath, and walked into the break room.

Warrick was reading the paper, Nick was asleep on the couch, and Sara was engrossed in

a forensic science journal. No one noticed her enter; Casey felt the universe had provided her

with a small miracle. Before she had a chance to talk, Greg coffee pot in hand slammed the glass

swing door into her back.

"Hot coffee coming through," he replied not moving his gaze from the coffee pot he was

protecting like a mother hen. When Greg looked up, it took a second for him to process that he

didn't run into Sara or Catherine. As his Y chromosome, identified the individual as female, he

put on the patented Sanders charm; "I am so sorry. How impolite of me, I am Greg, Greg

Sanders, DNA, but you can call me whatever you want..."

Sara interrupted, "Greg you'd better be careful she's a lawyer. She might sue." Greg's

extended hand, flinched with Sara's statement, but Casey's wide smile relaxed him enough to

finish introducing himself. Casey smiled in spite of herself. "I am Casey Tidwell. Then I am the

one headquartered in your closet." She reached out and shook Greg's hand, "Y'all really rolled

out the welcome mat with that one," she said laying on the southern charm. Although her

statement wasn't directed at anyone, it elicited response.Warrick, lifting his eyes from the sports

section, quipped "Oh, get we've got another one." Which he quickly followed up with, "Where

are you from?"

"Birmingham, Alabama..." and then Casey preceded to tell her life story, in under two

minutes flat. If law school had taught her nothing it was that fast talking pays. The distinct use of

"y'all" and the sweet southern drawl woke Nick. He swore he was dreaming, since no one in

the lab was southern or did a good impression. He pretended to be asleep until he jumped off

the sofa, blurting out, "Y'all can't rag on me for saying that any more. Finally. I am Nick Stokes.

Nice to meet you." The introduction was sudden and startled Casey, but she managed to

squeak out a "Hi", before Grissom, closely followed by Catherine entered the break room.

"Okay assignments...." Grissom started passing out pieces of paper while describing

several fairly severe crimes. Casey stood in the corner watching the interaction, thinking mainly

about statutes and applicable case law than victims and perpetrators. At the end of Grissom's

uninterrupted monologue of assignments, he finally turned addressed Casey's presence in the

room. This is Miss Tidwell, she is here as a liaison from the District Attorney's office. She will

have to be present in our interrogations, per the new Nevada statute; otherwise she is her for

our legal reference."

As the CSI team scattered out of the break room, each gave their compulsory greeting to

her; the most disjointed being Sara, who barely spoke in her direction. Thinking she was alone,

Casey sunk down on the couch and cracked open a Coca-Cola, being relieved that the first

introductions were over. "That could have been worse," said aloud to herself. In one smooth

motion, Greg sat down next to her, clanking his coffee cup to her cola can, and cheerfully

retorted, "Welcome to Las Vegas."


End file.
